Wait, What?

I know we all saw this coming.

The probability of the Cleveland Cavaliers pushing the NBA Finals to a 7th and deciding game was inevitable. By inevitable, I mean virtually impossible. Of the 31 teams that have previously been down 3-1 in the finals, 2 have survived to a game 7. That’s less than a 7% chance by my math, but don’t quote me; I was a literature major.

Not only do we get to watch one of the greatest endings to a series ever, we also get to witness history, no matter the outcome. Cleveland has the opportunity (and immense pressure) to end one of America’s longest sports droughts for a city that hasn’t won a major championship since 1964. And unless you have lived under a rock somewhere all year, Golden State is on the precipice of completing the greatest record and season of any team in NBA history. How did we get here?

I’ve watched every game of the 2016 NBA Finals and I have no clue!

I anticipated it would go to the limit, with 7 back and forth games when the series began; I also thought the Cavs were on the verge of getting swept after two games. I pondered if the suddenly living, breathing Commissioner was creating controversy and providing a convenient conspiracy theory by suspending Draymond Green for his ‘Phantom Swipe’ on King James’ jewels. Most importantly, I’m in a perpetual state of amazement and grateful to witness all of this, as quite possibly the greatest Finals any of us have ever seen.

Yes, that includes all the blowouts.

The sheer ridiculousness of it all is the reason why we watch sports. In fact, none of this makes any sense. The Warriors should have handled business already and be scheduling their White House visit for next year. The Cavs should be figuring out how to trade Kevin Love and get bench players that can get the job done for next season. Instead, we have a game 7 Sunday night. That, my friends, is why they say it ain’t over until the fat lady sings.

Alas, she will sing, loudly and defiantly. One city will be dousing its residents with champagne into the wee hours of the night, while the other will drown its sorrows for an entire offseason. We just have to wait to see if Cleveland, understated underdog, or Oakland, seemingly vulnerable favorites, will prevail.

In the words of the fearless Bart Scott: ‘Can’t wait!’

About the author

Kym Washington


Kymberlei Washington digs beer, bacon and basketball. Usually in that order, except on weekends. A native New Yorker, currently living in Austin, TX, you can find Kymberlei at the closest neighborhood sports bar. Sipping cheap American beer, trashing the Cowboys and living the dream.